


Bring Me Home

by blackm00n5



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 03:52:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3595299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackm00n5/pseuds/blackm00n5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The dragonborn, Denia, wasn't expecting to ever be close to Sapphire. The woman was distant, speaking little to her guild mates as far as Denia could tell. But as she had learned from the dragons coming back, fate rarely cares what you expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring Me Home

**Author's Note:**

> So I adore skyrim and the world can always benefit from more lesbians. Please feel free to leave criticism or to correct anything. I started this mostly because Sapphire fascinates me and I was seriously disappointed in how little involvement she really had in the game.

Denia had been riding for nearly three days now, going to Riften from Markarth. Her ebony armor was heavy and hot, the hood she had been given while at Nightingale Hall doing little to block the late afternoon sun. She sighed and readjusted herself on her horse, cooing in his ear about how they were almost there. Ysinn whined, but he kept up his trotting pace. 

Finally - finally!- the Riften gates peeked into view and the young Breton let out a sigh of relief. Only a bit longer and she'd be at home, putting away her spoils and getting a cold drink.

The people of Riften knew Denia well enough, they all wanted to be on the dragonborn's good side, after all. But it sometimes left her feeling a bit jaded. None of these people would have spared the ordinary Breton girl a second glance before all this dragon business. Denia certainly saw nothing particularly noteworthy. Evenly tanned skin and dark eyes, a sprinkling of freckles and near black hair always pulled into a braid. She took to magic easily, but had a bit of difficulty with larger weapons. All in all, she was the typical Breton. Or, she was before the damn dragons showed up. Now, she was expected to be a hero of some sort. 

Denia was shaken from her musings when her name was called. She looked up to realize she had reached Riften stables, and Shadr was already on his way over to her. A sweet smile pulled at Denia's lips and she took his proffered hand. He helped her needlessly off of her horse and greeted the younger girl with a hug. Her armor made is awkward and uncomfortable, but no less welcome.

"Denia! Its good to see you're well." He exclaimed, holding her at arms length by the shoulder. Denia smiled again and gave a nod.

"Same to you. It gets a bit lonely out there." She answered, gesturing to the road and out to where she had ridden in from.

"I'll have to take your word for it." Shadr said with a chuckle and a playful nudge. Denia gave a polite hum of laughter in return. "So Sapphire hasn't mentioned the debt at all. She's ignored me, in fact. I was positive she'd be demanding it again once you left." He gave a relieved sigh, leaning against one of the stable's support poles.

Sapphire was well known in Riften, as well, though not exactly for good reasons. Many saw her as a bully, others as a coward. Denia didn't quite have an opinion. She had only spoken to the woman a handful of times. And judging her for being a thief was hypocritical, since Denia had been appointed as the leader of the thieves guild. 

"I'm glad to hear, Shadr." The Breton said. "You know I enjoy your company, but I really want to relax a little. Reaquaint myself with home." She gave what she hoped was an apologetic smile, and Shadr waved a dismissive hand."

"Of course! I'm sorry for keeping you." He answered, charming smile still in place. "Don't you worry, Ysinn will be all taken care of." Shadr assured, taking the speckled horse's reigns.

"Thank you, Shadr. Remind me to give you a few extra septims, okay?" Denia called over her shoulder, making her way to the gate.

Her muscles were stiff from riding, and she was certain her ankles must have been swollen. The ride had been unpleasant, mostly rainy and dark. Denia could nearly taste the comforting warmth of her bed and despite the aches in her feet, she moved faster. The guard at the gate greeted her formally as he tugged it open, and Denia nodded wearily in thanks. As she trudged along, sights set on home, her ears caught a few scattered greeting. Her smile was forced, and her waves little more than a brief wiggle of fingers.

Any semblance of 'proper public figure' she might have had left was lost as soon as Denia stepped foot into her home. A sigh of relief left her pretty lips and she was tugging the heavy, black armor off as she dragged her feet to the bed. Armor clanged to the floor until she was clad in nothing more than her underclothes, and the girl collapsed onto her bed. The almost setting sun shone through the window, washing over the soft curves of her hips and waist. Dark eyes flitted shut, leaving her long lashes to fan over her cheekbones.

Denia had been positive she could have stayed like that for the next two days until her stomach grumbled, demanding food.with a sigh far less contented than the one before, she pulled herself heavily off the bed to dress herself. A comfortable green dress, not hot, heavy or bulky. A pleasant change from the ebony still scattered unceremoniously on her floor.

The walk from Denia's house to the Bee and Barb took about ten minutes. Throughout the walk, increasingly annoying greetings were called out to her. Despite her hunger and obvious exhaustion, Denia gave a nod of recognition to all of them.

The Bee and Barb, far more tavern than inn these days, was always welcoming to Denia. The regulars called out loudly, already on their second or third round of the night. Locals who weren't used to the dragonborn's presence in the humble inn shrunk in on themselves.

An already drunk man, certainly not a local and definitely much older than Denia, stumbled over before she had the chance to sit down. Her jaw clenched when he grabbed her upper arm too tightly.

"Well, ain't you a pretty thing." He slurred, the stale smell of too much mead on his breath making Denia's jaw clench harder.

"I'd like for you to let me go." She said, voice calm but threatening. The gods knew she easily could have thrown him off, but Keerava didn't need a fight in her inn. Her debt to the guild was repayed, which meant Denia's job was to keep it going smoothly. 

"Jus' lemme take care of you." The man tried again, leaning closer.

Denia didn't have time to reject him again before a firm hand clamped onto the drunk man's shoulder. He jerked in surprise about three seconds too late.

"Leave the girl alone, old man." The voice was firm, and despite having talked to her only a few times, Denia could recognize Sapphire's voice before seeing her.

The man sputtered a moment, about to retort, but Sapphire held a finger to his lips. That vaguely annoyed, but mostly disinterested expression never left her face.

"Don't. There are at least four people in this building who'd raise a mug at seeing your head roll on the floor." She announced flatly, and Denia bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

It seemed to take a moment for that to process in the man's mind, but he finally grumbled incoherently to himself and stumbled off in another direction. Rolling her eyes with a barely there smirk, Sapphire gestured for Denia to follow her. The two slipped into the seats at an empty table and Denia gave a sheepish smile.

"You look too exhausted to deal with some drunken lowlife." Sapphire said before Denia could speak. The Breton chuckled and nodded.

"Yes. Thank you." She said, instead of trying to explain herself like she had originally intended to.

Sapphire leaned back in her seat, an almost smug smile on her face. Denia relaxed, the soft cotten of her dress rubbing comfortably against her skin. An even larger smile tugged over her lips when a bowl of beef stew was placed in front of her without her having to ask. She thanked Keerava and began eating.

"So...are you going to tell me your real name?" Denia asked tactlessly when she got sick of the silence. Sapphire's face darkened and the vague smile was ripped away.

"Look, I don't really know you. I don't even really know anyone here." She snapped, straightening in her chair. "Why do you care, anyway? Its not like we're family."

Denia blinked, gaping a bit. She certainly hadn't expected such a harsh reaction.

"Something had to have happened to make you so angry." She said, mentally slapping herself as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

"You want to know about me? Okay, I'll tell you about the time when I was a young girl, barely out of her teens, living on a pig farm. We got attacked by bandits and my family didn't even raise a sword." Sapphire hissed out, voice dangerously calm.

"That's...that's terrible." Denia managed to choke out, and the older woman barked out a humorless laugh.

"Oh wait, it gets better. They took me as a prize. Violated me for a fortnight. Passed me from bandit to bandit like...like..." she grew more and more agitated as she spoke, eyes glazed.

"You don't have to tell me more." The Breton said quietly. Sapphire's eyes snapped back into focused, and a bit of tension left her shoulders.

"No...no, it...feels good to tell someone. Carrying something like that around, it starts to eat at you." She said, staring down into her mug.

"How...how did you escape?" Sapphire gave a brief smile at the question.

"I earned their trust. Got up in the middle of the night and slit their throats." She didn't sound at all like she regretted it. Denia doubted she did. "Never went back to that pig farm. Nothing left for me there." She sighed and shook her head.

The following silence wasn't altogether uncomfortable, but no one could say it was pleasant. Denia stared down into her mostly empty bowl, pushing around a stray carrot with her spoon. That silence stretched on, neither knowing what to say. What could they say? Sapphire was embarrassed by having such an outburst, Denia embarrassed for prompting it. The dragonborn glanced at Sapphire's face.

"You...never did tell me your name." Denia said tentatively. Sapphire gave a vague smile, shaking her head.

"Maybe someday, but not today." She answered.

Denia wasn't quite sure if that was a promise or not, but she accepted it nonetheless. Once again, they fell into silence, this one far more comfortable. Finally, after just a few minutes, Sapphire looked up. Her smile seemed genuine, eyes glinting.

"Come on. Let's have a drink, on me." She offered, waving Keerava down. Denia smiled, almost nervous. She didn't drink, but who was she to deny a generous offer?


End file.
